


Boxing with No Gloves

by angellwings



Series: (You Are) What You Love [4]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, In which Wyatt slowly loses everything and I die while writing this, Lost Love, One Shot, Set from 206-210, fair warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 05:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: Wyatt may not be a historian or an anthropologist but he is a sports enthusiast. His Grandpa Sherwin loved boxing. Wyatt was reluctant to embrace it but when it became clear that he was born a natural bullheaded brawler he decided it was in his best interest to learn. In the middle of his education, he ran across something interesting.Boxing gloves weren't always used to protect a fighter's hands. Roman Gladiators used what they called a cestus orbattle glove— leather strips filled with iron plates or sometimes fitted with spikes or blades. Like a brass knuckle for your whole hand. The brutality of the cestus eventually caused the Romans to ban boxing.He's never been hit with a cestus, but he can imagine it. He can imagine it feels a lot like he does now with Lucy's hurt, anger, and desperation aimed right at him on a public street in 1919.





	Boxing with No Gloves

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: **OOF. This one was HARD, you guys. I mean just painful. I had to relieve 206-210. Oh man, watching Wyatt descend into those depths is NEVER fun but then having to dig into his POV through it all? EVEN WORSE. OUCH.
> 
> Hopefully I did him justice and you guys like this.
> 
> I swear we're getting closer to the happy stuff. I promise.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Angellwings
> 
> * * *

* * *

"Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves,

Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there's no us.

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It's on your face, and I'm to blame,

I need to say, hey,

It's all me in my head.

I'm the one who burned us down,

But it's not what I meant.

Sorry that I hurt you.

I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you,

I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you.

I need to say, hey,

It's all me, just don't go,

Meet me in the afterglow."

-"Afterglow" by Taylor Swift

* * *

Wyatt may not be a historian or an anthropologist but he is a sports enthusiast. His Grandpa Sherwin loved boxing. Wyatt was reluctant to embrace it but when it became clear that he was born a natural bullheaded brawler he decided it was in his best interest to learn. In the middle of his education, he ran across something interesting.

Boxing gloves weren't always used to protect a fighter's hands. Roman Gladiators used what they called a cestus or _battle glove_ — leather strips filled with iron plates or sometimes fitted with spikes or blades. Like a brass knuckle for your whole hand. The brutality of the cestus eventually caused the Romans to ban boxing.

He's never been hit with a cestus, but he can imagine it. He can imagine it feels a lot like he does now with Lucy's hurt, anger, and desperation aimed right at him on a public street in 1919.

"_Little late for that_," she'd said.

He'd told her he wasn't going to let her get hurt and she'd said, "_Little late for that."_

Little late for that?

Everything in him tenses and runs cold all at once. He feels fear. Unadulterated fear. She means exactly what he thinks she means. He simultaneously knows it and dreads it. But ever the glutton for punishment he can't stop himself from digging further.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Dumb fuck, you know exactly what it means, he berates himself.

"Okay, look, Wyatt, I have tried really hard to separate whatever's going on between us from the work that we have to do, but you are _not_ making it easy."

Easy? _Easy?_ She thinks—

He's been tortured by guilt every night. Worry weighs on him over every decision he's ever made, _especially _when it comes to Lucy Preston. He worries he's damaged her far greater than she ever deserves. He worries he's made the biggest mistake of his life. He worries he'll always wonder what would have happened had Jessica not come back. He can't focus on fixing his marriage for _worrying_ about Lucy. So, _easy_? Not one god damn bit of this has been _easy_.

"You think this has been easy for me?"

He sounds like an ass and he knows it, but how does she not see how gutted he's been over this whole fucked up situation?

"You got the love of your life back, Wyatt, and I got the rug pulled out from under me _again_, so I would really appreciate it if you would stop acting like _you were the one_ who got screwed."

There it is again. _The cestus._ The defeat and heartbreak in her eyes feels like leather and iron and spikes embedding in his skin. "I'm—"

"I have a speech to deliver."

The frustrated huff that leaves him is unavoidable. He has no idea what he was going to say before she interrupted him. Whatever it was wouldn't have been enough. He doesn't have a leg to stand on. She's fighting him with the cestus and he's standing in front of her with bare knuckles. Nothing he could say would _ever_ be enough. He can't think of a way to fix this. There's no solution that will appease everyone.

Jessica didn't ask to come back. She certainly didn't ask to come back to a man who loves someone else. She didn't do anything wrong. But neither did _Lucy_. Lucy, who has already lost more than one person ever should. The same Lucy he comforted after her mother chose Rittenhouse over her. He told her she hadn't lost him. He promised. But he thought…

He thought Jessica was gone for good. He made his peace with that. He was moving on and everything was going so well. In fact, better than well...things with Lucy were damn near perfect. For one day all was right in his world and he felt as if he were exactly where he was meant to be. For the first time in maybe his whole life, he felt like he was..._home_. Even in a dank, disgusting, Cold War era bunker, he felt at home.

_Because of Lucy._

And then old obligations came along and tore his newfound sense of comfort to pieces. He spent so long mourning Jessica. He jeopardized everything to get her back, over and over again. How could he let her go after all of that? It was his fault she died in the first place. Didn't he _owe her_ a chance to have him at his best? She'd seen him at his worst. He couldn't leave it like that. He had to make it up to her. To show her that he wasn't the same fuck up he used to be.

But why did not fucking it up with Jessica have to mean fucking it up ten times worse with Lucy?

And _why_ did it take an emotional explosion under a significant amount of stress to get Lucy to tell him how she honestly feels? If she feels like the rug was pulled out from under her then why couldn't she have told him that on the first god damn phone call?

(Another mistake he made as part of his idiotic impulsiveness. He should have talked to Lucy before he left but he was convinced it was a hoax. How could it have been true? What would be the point of upsetting her if it was just Rittenhouse trying to trap him? Only when it turned out to be real did he see the glaring holes in his logic. Once again, too little too late.)

Or why couldn't she have told him after he tried to talk to her last week? Or when they talked after rescuing Kennedy? He doesn't expect Lucy to try and break up his marriage. He knows her better than that. But aren't they important enough to each other to be honest? A part of him wishes she'd told him how hurt she was on that first phone call. At least then he'd know if she even wanted him to fight for her. If she wanted to fight for _him_.

Because 1941 felt _life changing_ to him. Honestly, it did.

But had it been that for her? If she isn't willing to fight for him then what choice does he have? He's _married_ to Jessica. Jessica still loves him and has agreed to work on their marriage. She's _fighting_ for him. For both of them. If Lucy doesn't want him then why shouldn't he fix his marriage?

But then can his marriage really work if his heart's just not in it? Is that even fair to Jessica? Or himself, for that matter?

Every thought swings him back into a circle of confusion and doubt. Nothing makes sense. Up is down, forward is back, fact is fiction. He's adrift in a stormy sea and grasping at anything that floats to keep his head above water. The problem is, every item he grabs takes him further and further away from Lucy and he's not entirely certain that's the right direction. His head tells him it's right, his heart disagrees.

Meanwhile, his indecision is taking even more of a toll based on Lucy's outburst a moment ago. He needs to get his shit together. He needs to stop hurting the people he loves. He needs to man the fuck up and make a god damn choice.

Everyone thinks so. Jiya. Christopher. Flynn. Rufus has understandably stayed neutral but Wyatt knows he'd agree. Either he stays in the ring with Lucy or he taps out and lets her move on. His selfish need to keep her close is hurting her. _Breaking her_.

It has to stop.

Or else the cestus that is her heartbreak is going to kill him.

Not that it isn't already.

They make it through the mission because of her. She inspires Grace to pick up the cause where Alice left off. He stands on the sidelines and watches in amazement. She's never understood her own power. How truly _impressive_ she is. She invalidates her own contributions and he cannot stand by and let that happen. No matter what's going on with them, Lucy Preston is a force of nature and he's fortunate to be allowed anywhere near her. Whether they're together or not, that opinion will always be a constant.

She's a sun with her own orbit and he can't pull away.

There's not much time to clear the air during the mission but he tries as best he can. He offers support and takes careful measure to not hinder her any further. When they get back he tries to usher Jessica out of her line of sight as quickly as possible. Why Jessica suddenly decides she enjoys public displays of affection, he isn't sure. Unless she's trying to hurt Lucy. Jessica isn't stupid. She knows something happened between him and Lucy. She's shown slips of insecurity in the past. It's disappointing but not really surprising.

But this isn't over. He and Lucy still need to talk.

He gives them both time to shower and change — to resemble normal people instead of worn and weary time travelers. As much as they can anyway. When he finds her later, she has her back facing an open laptop. The page displays information on Grace Humiston. It all seems positive to him. But his job is the present, not the past. Of course Lucy sees things differently.

"Alice isn't even a footnote. She's gone, disappeared. Everything that she sacrificed, all of her accomplishments. Like she never even existed, and I'm the only one that's going to remember her."

Her voice sounds hopeless with an underlying layer of resentment. Despite their victory, she's in a low place. He moves closer as she talks. She's being so upfront with him that he falls into the old familiar trap. Their connection. The fact that he's never liked to see her upset supersedes anything about their current circumstances and all he wants in that particular moment is to help her. To offer her some sort of reassurance. Just as he always has. On some level he knows he shouldn't, but he's already established that he's an impulsive fuck up, so he storms right past that level to his very instinctual need to be there _for Lucy._

"You're not the only one." His hands graze her shoulders for a fraction of a second before she's up and across the room.

The quickness of the movement combined with words "Wyatt, don't" hit him like another punch from the cestus. He can't do anything right with her anymore. He can't shut off his feelings for her. He can't do the one thing she's asking him to do. _Back off_. They're not anything anymore and he's still managing to fail her.

Typical Wyatt Logan.

So, instead he goes for honesty. If he doesn't do this now, he may not have another moment. It's clear she's running from him and he can understand why but the look on her face earlier that day made it clear that he hasn't told her _enough_ about what he's thinking or feeling. She needs to know.

"Lucy, I still care about you."

Understatement, but given the ring on his left hand it'll have to do. He may be a reckless hothead but even he knows better than to say those three little words right now.

"I...I can't make that disappear."

"Wyatt, you are married to a woman that you love. You are _happily_ married. I have to accept that, and you have to accept that."

It's on the tip of his tongue to point out that his marriage can't be too happy if Jessica was about to serve him divorce papers, but that wouldn't really help his case right now, would it? Besides, his primary concern should be respecting Lucy's feelings. He's been selfish long enough. If she wants him to fight for her then she'll give him some kind of sign, right? She'll leave him with some shred of hope that she hasn't shut the door on 1941 forever.

"We can't keep living in the past."

He knows he shouldn't but he grins a little at that. All they do is live in the past. They have no lives in the present. Not in this hell hole. He can tell by the pause that she sees the irony in her words too. But fine, if she wants to move on then he can..._deal_ with that. He'll have to. And really who she moves on with is none of his business. He knows that.

Except _Flynn_. The man who came so close to killing them numerous times last year. She can't possibly choose _him_. If Wyatt doesn't deserve her then Flynn sure as hell doesn't either. He's unpredictable and volatile. He'll put her in greater danger than time travel ever has.

"Okay, but _Flynn, _though? I mean, seriously?"

He's skating on thin ice. She told him in no uncertain terms that he had no right to ask about it or offer any sort of opinion. Thankfully, she decides to be merciful when she really shouldn't.

"Wyatt, nothing happened. We talked. That's all."

The elation he feels isn't normal. He didn't win anything. He's still losing her, but knowing he's not losing her _to Flynn_ feels like a victory, anyway. He tries and fails to hide it with a brusque, "cool."

The look she gives him is more playful than angry for the first time since he walked out on her to find his dead wife. It shouldn't give him hope, but it does. That's his Lucy. The Lucy he knows by heart.

"I mean, _thank God._"

She laughs lightly. It doesn't sound bitter. That's another tally in the hope column.

"What? I think it's safe to say that literally no one has experienced what I'm going through—" except maybe Lucy, you asshole, what are you saying? "—what we're going through right now."

"I know that," she replies. He feels a turn coming. A turn that's going to erase those two fragile tallies of hope. "But you getting a second chance with Jessica, that is the closest thing to a miracle I have ever seen, and there is _no way_ I'm getting in the middle of that. That is not who I am."

Yep, there it is. Not the sign he wanted, but definitely a sign. That's it. That's his choice made for him. She doesn't want him to choose her. She doesn't want him to make a choice at all. It's a foregone conclusion to her that he should be with Jessica. Getting Jessica back is a _miracle_.

Which confirms his thoughts earlier that he owes it to Jessica to prove he's not the awful husband she knew. She deserves to see the person he always had the potential to be. The person he's grown into…

Because of Lucy. Which also hardly seems fair. Lucy makes him better so why does he have to give her up. He's trapped in that circle again. His entire body aches from the stress. Lucy saved him. She's the reason he's not that bitter drunk asshole he was before the first mission. Without her, he wouldn't want to know where he'd be right now.

Which probably means, she's too good. Too good for him. For his life. For the accidentally cruel way he's treated her. Too fucking good to be saddled with his battered heart.

"For what it's worth," he says. "I'm glad you are who you are."

She looks away from him with glassy eyes. Deflecting praise as usual. "Well, I'm no Alice Paul so—"

"No, you're Lucy Preston. That's pretty damn good."

Soldier. Historian. Activist. Light in the darkness.

_Pretty damn good_ doesn't cut it. She's so much more than that, but he's never been good at words. He trusts her to know him well enough to catch his implied meaning. The mood shifts. He feels acceptance and sadness, but somewhere in all of it is still a kernel of hope that she might change her mind. That there's some small amount of wiggle room.

So he asks, "So where does that leave us?"

Her answer is friendly but still the final nail in the coffin.

"Same place as always. Kicking ass and saving the world."

Even as she says it, he can tell it's not enough. Not enough for her or for him. But he can't put her in a position she doesn't want to be in. If she doesn't want to be in the middle of his marriage then he's damn sure not gonna put her there. So it may not be enough, but it will have to do. He can't be _completely_ without her. He'll settle for whatever piece she decides to give him.

"Yeah," is his lame reply.

The conversation's over, the door is closed.

He burnt them down without even trying.

Story of his life, right?

The days go on and the decision feels final. For the most part. Some insane part of him still thinks..._someday_. But that's a pipe dream. He's hurt her too badly. Made too many mistakes. His only hope now is that it'll all be worth it. That he can repair his broken relationship with Jessica and revive what they had in the early days. He can't have lost Lucy for nothing.

That thought almost works. Jessica announces she's pregnant and it feels like that will make all the pain worth it. For maybe a minute. Then he finds out she might be Rittenhouse. Now all the sense he'd applied to his heartbreak falls apart. It can't be true. Because if it's true then he truly has made all the wrong calls.

All.

_The wrong._

Calls.

The conflict puts him and Lucy right back in the boxing ring.

Only this time he's wearing the cestus and try as he might he can't get it off.

He sees himself hurling the punches.

"She's pregnant."

"You throw her out, I go too."

Both said carelessly in the heat of a defensive argument with Christopher. While Lucy was sitting _to his left _at the mess hall tables. What the fuck is wrong with him?

But it doesn't stop there.

"What do you want me to say, Lucy? That my wife is a liar?"

"You and Flynn? Of course."

He's not the only one throwing punches, though. She does a good job of lobbing them back in his face.

"You and Rufus are a better team."

"I've got it, Wyatt."

He's lost Lucy, he's losing Jessica. Just when everything was starting to make sense it's all a shambles again. He's not hiding it well. He's taking it out on Lucy and he hates himself for it. She hasn't done anything wrong. He trapped himself by making saving Jessica his top priority for so many years. He made it so important that the woman he loves won't 'stand in the way' of him and his 'true love'. Only, at this point, the whole thing is a lie. He's fooling himself by denying Jessica is Rittenhouse. Deep down he knows it.

He's given up everything that mattered for Jessica and in the end it's all going to be a waste of god damn time. He holds out preposterous hope that this is all some misunderstanding or that Jessica's being manipulated — maybe blackmailed. If she is Rittenhouse, she could be Rittenhouse against her will. Like the man he interrogated in 1981. That has to be it.

_Has to be_.

He's ready for another round with Lucy when he passes her in the hall after the mission's successful conclusion. Their exchange is curt and he's purposefully abrupt, but to his surprise she doesn't punch back.

She throws down her gloves and steps out of the ring by wrapping her arms around him and pulling him in for an embrace so powerful that he nearly forgets himself and what he's done to her. If she'd held him a moment longer, he would have kissed her. He knows then and there that all his talk of leaving the bunker with Jessica was just bluster. Bark with no bite.

He can't leave Lucy. He can't leave Rufus. They're his team.

One hug from Lucy and his common sense returns.

Christopher's right, albeit a week late, Jessica is a security risk. She has to go. At least until they figure out why Rittenhouse has been watching her. Maybe it is blackmail. Or a huge misunderstanding. Maybe she's an unwitting accomplice in all of it. Whatever it is, she can't be around his team until they figure it out.

Lucy Preston spoke calm to his raging storm and barely lifted a finger. He's reminded once again that _pretty damn good_ doesn't come close to describing Lucy. She's infinitely more than that. _Infinitely better _than all of them.

Yet _somehow_ he's not done hurting her just yet. Not done hurting his entire team. Because he wakes up to find Jessica's side of the bed empty and the whirring of the Lifeboat with Jiya and Jessica inside.

The pain of his body slamming against the concrete is no where near punishment enough. He has to see Lucy's face as she finds out he suspected Jessica might be Rittenhouse. He has to listen to Flynn's snark about the wife he gave up his enitre life to have back. He has to listen to the sickening crack of his elbow to Lucy's face after she catches an accidental hit.

_His _elbow. _Her_ face.

This is not what he wanted. He didn't mean for any of this to happen.

Jiya's gone. Rufus feels betrayed. Lucy is…

God, _Lucy_.

This whole time she's been a saint. She supported him even when it broke her. She defended Jessica to Christopher. She defend _him_ and he never once deserved it. She's better off without him. All he does is break her. Over and over again. He sees it every time she looks at him. All he wants to do is scream at her to hate him. This is all on him. She should leave him to suffer the consequences and save herself.

But she doesn't. None of them do.

They march into battle and they lose.

He loses Jessica. And they _all_ lose Rufus.

Jessica wasn't blackmailed or unwitting. She was purposeful in her intent to tear his team apart. She succeeded. They step out of the Lifeboat with Jiya and _without_ Rufus. Bloody and beaten.

Lucy's swollen and cut up face is a glaring reminder of his failures. He forces himself to look at her — to memorize it.

He did this.

This is all his fault. He has to fix it.

With Christopher. With Jiya. And especially with _Lucy_.

This may end with him all alone but he won't let them doubt how much he regrets this path he set them on. She may never want to set eyes on him again but he'll apologize anyway. He loves her and he ruined them. He won't let Lucy go another moment without seeing how deeply he regrets what he did to her.

Rufus was right. He should have admitted it a long time ago. He should have showed her how much she meant to him when he had the chance. Screw what his head wanted him to do. He should have followed his heart. He should have picked Lucy. Not just because Jessica turned on him but because Lucy Preston is the one person his heart truly can’t beat without.

He _needs_ her.

_Clearly_, just look at what a fuck up he is without her.

They're all sitting in the afterglow of the devastation _he caused_. He'll put out the fires and clean up the mess. Hopefully in the process he can show Lucy that she truly did nothing wrong. He abandoned her and she never deserved that. Like the accidental elbow he threw in her face, she was collateral damage. Jessica targeted him and she got caught in the crossfire.

He tells her the words the first time they're alone after losing Rufus. He knows she'll never say them back. He knows she likely won't stay by his side. But he'll fight for her anyway. If only to show her that her love wasn't one sided. That she was never far from his thoughts throughout all of it. He may lose.

But, let's be honest, he deserves it.

Nothing's changed. He still wants Lucy as badly as he did in 1941. Nothing would make him happier than to hear those three words from her. To hear her say, even after all the shit he put her through, that she loves him would be a miracle. The _true_ miracle. (She was wrong. Jessica was never his miracle. His miracle always was and will be Lucy Preston.)

As they sit in the silent echo of those three little words she can't possibly return, he allows himself to fantasize about the words she'll never say. That he lost his mind but she still wants him. That they'll be fine. That it's not his fault (she'd be lying but he'd let her). That he's in her heart despite her best efforts to cut him out.

He doesn't stand a chance with her. He never did. The hope won't be snuffed out, though. The light won't dim. It's foolhardy to foster the glow.

But he'll do it anyway.

Because a while back, before things went to hell, she labeled him a reckless hothead and, after all, isn't that what reckless hotheads do? Isn't that what _he_ does?

He charges in, head first, knowing he'll lose.

He boxes with no gloves.

He takes the hits from the cestus.

In the end, the iron and leather, the spikes and blades, can pound on him all they want. He'll take the punishment. It'll all be worth it.

For Rufus. For his team— No, not his team.

His _family_.

And most important of all…

_For Lucy._


End file.
